Brokenness: suicide

My friend works in the women's ministry of a very big church.
Last week,
a woman who attended the ministry took her own life.

The woman was depressed,
tormented even,
and wasn't supposed to be left alone or around any kinds of pills.

But hours of solitude however brief
can somehow slip into a day.
And rather than pills slipping down a throat,
the slip of a noose will work just as easily.

And this young mother's brokenness slipped away...
leaving a family to pick up the pieces for a lifetime.

There is the tension between hurt and healing, healing and loss.
There are the faces stuck in that tension,
Daughters.
Husband.
Parents.
Friends.
A kind of purgatory.

One face so caught was the counselor at church who offered his presence to her.
He heard of her death,
and like the women who went to clean Jesus' body,
he went to her home
and cleaned the fluids that had leaked out of her broken life.
An act of love
of sacrifice
creating a space of healing
for those who mourn,
for those left with the tension.

And so,
maybe part of the mercy in brokenness,
is an act of service and sacrifice,
that eases the tension
softens the hurt,
becomes a hand to hold,
and offers a way to say good bye.

I offer no easy answers here for the loss of life,
for understanding taking one's life,
or even mental illness.
I leave us with that tension.

But I do offer the image of one man,
serving what was left of a broken life
and I think:
I want to be like him.

Painting titled Entombment of Christ by Garafalo, 1520

Intentional family prayers: Racism

And here is where I tell you what I am working on in terms of a book.

It will be a book of Intentional Family Prayers.
Available as an e-book at first.

My hope is that it will foster intimacy in a family between members of that family and with God.
Look for it in the beginning of September.

For now,
I offer this prayer time regarding racism.
It will be part of a series of prayers in the book,
all using different types of contemplative prayer styles as well as praying through various issues.

My hope,
is that in light of all that has happened in the last year regarding race,
and because of the massacre that took place in Charleston when Christians were murdered as an act of hate against the color of their skin,
that families will use this to not only open themselves to discussion,
but also to change.

Because prayer is the deepest of conversations,
and one of the most vulnerable of intimacies...
it can shift everything.
And it can root us.

A Contemplative Prayer of Repentance for Racism

Light a candle and place it on a table around which your family gathers.
Watch the flicker of the flame, note the warmth it brings, the illumination.

Reader #1: John 1:5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.

Head of Household #1: Take a moment to reflect on dark places in your heart: jealousy
                                                                               unforgiveness
                                                                               hate

Now, bring these to Jesus, the Light of the world,
Who came for all people, all creation,
Who broke down dividing walls,
Whose resurrection is redeeming the earth.

Just as light consumes darkness,
So does the finished work of Jesus consume our darkness.

Breathe in deeply, exhale slowly.
Repeat this breathing for as long as the members in your family can,
focusing on the light of the candle, remembering this represents Jesus,
considering the work of restoration between all peoples He has completed

Head of Household #2:
Jesus~
Our redeemer
We come as a family to say we have not
viewed all people the same.
Fear has been our friend
and a history of exclusion rather than embrace
has kept us from welcoming another.

We want to be a family that embraces all,
Just as you do.
We repent of anything but reconciliation and restoration.

In Jesus Name.

Reader #2: John 8:12 Jesus spoke to the people once more and said, "I am the Light of the world. If you follow me, you won't have to walk in darkness, because you will have the light that leads to life."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Should you have further questions about the upcoming e-book or regarding racism, reconciliation, and restoration, comments are welcome.

Beauty and a McDonald's Playland

The other day

I was with my kids at Mc Donald's (again).
My husband was gone for an 11 day trip,
and I was doing whatever I could to make the time easier.
This included a playland and happy meals.

And it seems in that sticky maze of tunnels and slides,
I'm usually led to something beautiful.

This day it was a little boy named Alex.
He had Down Syndrome.
And because I'm having a baby later in life,
I view children like this differently than I did in the past.
My heart doesn't ache with the hurt of their life,
but rather the promise.

We were the only ones in the playland that day,
me, my kids, Alex, and his big brother and girlfriend.
Sophie was singing from the Frozen soundtrack to Alex and asked him if he wanted to dance with her.
He didn't respond,
but followed her around anyway.
I thought: should our baby be born Down Syndrome,
our kids will never know life any differently.
The life this baby adds to our family,
will be the only life they ever know.
It will be the norm.

And my heart grew huge with this beauty.
A big sister asking a baby to dance,
singing songs,
asking him if he wants to build a snowman,
much like any other child.

I asked Alex's  big brother how old his brother was and he said: almost eight.
And then added: he's had a difficult time.
I thought he meant having Down Syndrome, and so I nodded,
but then he added: On December 11, 2012,
he was diagnosed with leukemia.
He continued: but he's been fighting it and right now he's doing okay...
It's harder, you know, with the Down Syndrome.

I looked at that little boy again and tried to understand
the how and why of justice when
this sweet boy, who already had so much stacked against him,
would be handed the further complication of cancer.

And in the muggy haze of a Mc Donald's playland,
I was not given an answer
to the justice questions of our world.

But I was a witness to this:
The first time Alex climbed to the top of the bright tunnels,
and rode a salty slide down,
he hopped off the lip of the ride,
looked at his brother
and threw his fist in the air.
With pride.
With joy.
And his brother threw his fist in the air, too.
And there they were,
celebrating something so tender
so vulnerable,
but so strong,
that it could only be described as Beauty.

And I think,
in that victory,
I saw something living and breathing and eternal,
more real than anything we can see or touch or feel.
I watched injustice shake with the promise of defeat.

And I heard the echo of a promise:
a little child will lead them.

I think that child will look a lot like Alex.
Beauty.

I burst with the promise of this hope.